


A Walk in the Park

by JustAPassingGlance



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAPassingGlance/pseuds/JustAPassingGlance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a precious pup, a lost wallet, and the unexpected meeting of future husbands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Walk in the Park

“What do you have there, good girl?” Blaine cooed. It was the first nice day of spring and his afternoon class had been unexpectedly cancelled. He had all but rushed home, woken Tucker up from her nap and dragged her out of the house so they could enjoy the beautiful sunshine together. While she seemed disgruntled at first, she had warmed up to the idea the moment they turned down the road to head to the park.

In the recent frigid winter months, the park was a luxury reserved only for the weekends when Blaine had a large cup of coffee clutched in his hand and no qualms with adding a shot or two to it to keep himself from freezing to death. Now that the days were getting longer and, most importantly, warmer he expected the two of them would be spending a lot more time there.

Tucker pranced closer, preening under the praise and happily showing off her prize. Blaine squinted, immediately dismissing the idea that it could be a rock or something similar. He sighed, annoyed the people that just left their litter laying around, especially in this particular park where there were garbage cans practically every twenty yards.

Finally she came close enough for him to see that what she had clenched between her teeth definitely wasn’t somebody’s discarded trash. It was a wallet.

Springing his feet, he yelled at her to drop it. Instead of listening to him like she normally did she bounded off, convinced they were playing some sort of game. When she was a safe distance away she dropped it to the ground and let out three resounding barks and she wriggled around it, daring him to try and get it from her.

He lunged for it.

Before he could get back to his feet she and was halfway across the field.

“Tucker!” He yelled in a tone he hadn’t used since before she had been housebroken. “Come here!”

In an instant she was at his side, eyes wide and ears pressed flat against her head as she whined low in the back of her throat, clearly confused as to how playtime had taken such a serious turn.

“Drop it,” he commanded sternly. She released it and sank down onto her haunches, giving her tail a single thump against the ground as she waited for praise. “Bad dog,” he muttered as he snatched up the expensive looking (and now drool covered) wallet.

Tucker flattened herself to the ground and started to whimper, not used to being such a disappointment. She was a quick learner and eager to please meaning Blaine seldom had cause to actually scold her. She let out a particularly desperate whine and Blaine felt his heart break.

“Oh, Tuck,” he dropped down to his knees and scratched behind her left ear. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not a bad girl.” Gently he gripped her chin and lifted her head up so he could kiss the top of it. “No you’re not. You’re a good girl.” She gave her tail a few half-hearted wags. “You are. You’re such a good girl.” He continued praising her until she started eagerly licking his hand and nuzzling against his chest.

“Let’s see who this belongs to then,” he said as he wiped the worst of the drool off the wallet.

There wasn’t much inside. In the main pocket there was about $80 in cash, a couple of old receipts from a local coffee shop and several credit cards. He whistled as he slid out a Centurion Card. “Who did you steal this from?” He asked his dog incredulously. Looking around nervously, he half expecting to see some infuriated man storming up to them threatening to skin Tucker alive.

The final thing he pulled out was a drivers license that looked like it might be a couple of years old. The man who owned the wallet was much younger than Blaine had expected.  He also looked really good in his photo which wasn’t fair at all. It was like a law of the universe that if a the photo was going to be used for identification that you looked horrible in it. Blaine’s passport photo, for example, had been taken on a humid August day when his hair had refused to be confined by gel. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes looked glassy and unfocused.

Despite the fact that he had an address to work off of, Blaine allowed himself to look through the outer pocket. Given the rather mundane items he had found thus far it seemed unlikely that he would find anything personal than the plethora  of information he had gotten from the driver’s license. (Beyond a full name and address, he now also knew that Sebastian Smythe was 6’ 2”, the he had green eyes and wore contacts, and that as of February he was 26 years old.)

His search was justified when he found several business cards, one of which had Sebastian’s name on it. His theory that he wouldn’t find anything personal was, however, disproven when he unearthed several contour-ribbed condoms, a couple packets of lube, and a wedding ring.

As he shoved everything but the card back in, he tried to ignore the part of his mind that was yelling at him that the person who owned this wallet was clearly a serial adulterer. Whatever this man got up to in his spare time was his own prerogative and it was absolutely in no way shape or form any of his business.

“So should we try and find this Sebastian Smythe?” He asked Tucker, taking her cocked head as affirmation. Trying the phone number of the business card seemed like a better idea than just showing up at the address on the license, although he could always use that as a backup plan if it turned out the he didn’t work there anymore.

The phone rang three times before it was picked up. “Mathison and Dunham. This is Melinda speaking. How may I help you?”A bored sounding secretary said.

“Umm… I was calling for Sebastian Smythe? I-“

“Just a moment,” She interrupted.

He rolled his eyes as he was put on hold and Vivaldi filled the line. While it was definitely better than muzak it was a little too pretentious for his tastes. Vivaldi had just given way to Debussy when the line clicked over.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end could only be described as annoyed. He really hoped that this wasn’t an accurate sampling of Mathison and Dunham’s public relations, because if it was they were abysmally rude.

“Umm. Hi. Is this Sebastian Smythe?”

“Yes.”

“Umm. I’m Blaine Anderson. You don’t know me but I think I found your wallet today?”

There was a moment of silence. “You what?”

“I, uh, found your wallet? In the park.”

“Oh thank god,” the voice breathed almost too quiet to be heard. “Can you meet me somewhere? I’m in a bit of a rush this afternoon.”

“Yeah. Sure. Where were you thinking?”

“Do you know the Roasted Bean? On the outskirts of the financial district? Can you be there in twenty minutes?”

Blaine had spent very little time in anywhere near the financial district but he recognized the name of the café from  the receipts he had found earlier and it couldn’t be that hard to find with the help of his phone.

“Maybe closer to twenty-five?”

“That’s fine. I’ll see you then.”

The line went dead.

Blaine shook his head “It’s a good thing he is good looking because his manners are lacking.”  Tucker yipped in response. “Let’s go find this coffee shop.”

The biggest problem with having a dog was that it limited his ability to use public transport. Had they been able to use it they could have been there in ten minutes, his phone informed him. By foot it would take 17 minutes.

24 minutes, actually, after two wrong turns and Tucker stopping to say hello to every other person who even glanced at in her direction.

Nervously he glanced inside the shop, not wanting to make Sebastian wait but also not wanting to tie Tucker up for longer than he had to. Although she never seemed to mind it he always felt uncomfortable just leaving her outside.

It would help if he had more to go off of than the man’s height and a picture of him that could be years old. He peered through the window, trying to gauge whether the man in the corner was over six feet tall or not. Although the man was dressed nicely, he wasn’t wearing a suit and it seemed likely that Sebastian would be coming from work and would still be dressed for it.

“Blaine Anderson?”

He jumped and whirled around, heart pounding in his chest. Sebastian was standing in front of him looking very amused.

The photo on his license was old and the couple of years between when it was taken and now had been very good to him. He was probably in his mid-twenties and his face had lost its youthful charm to be replaced by a model-esque sharpness.

“Sebastian Smythe,” the man said, holding his hand out. Numbly Blaine shook it.

“How did you know it was me?”He finally asked, dropping Sebastian’s hand like it had burned him when he realized he had been holding on to it just a little too long.

“You know, if you ever want to get a job you should probably make your Facebook page a little more private,” he replied nonchalantly. “Or find new friends.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.” He felt the flush start to stain his cheeks and idly he wondered if he could pass it off as over-exertion from the walk over. It was true that he didn’t have any pictures that were too risqué (although as a theatre kid his friends certainly did) but there were a lot which were, quite frankly, rather embarrassing. With any luck he hadn’t looked that far.

“I especially liked the ones from that Christmas party where you-”

“Here!” Unceremoniously he thrust the wallet at Sebastian who received it with a smirk. “It was actually Tucker who found it,” he hurriedly explained, tugging gently at her lead in indication, “so it might be a bit chewed. I can give you money, to make up the damage.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he dismissed as he riffled through it presumably checking to see if anything had been taken. 

Blaine saw the relief ripple across his face as he found the wedding band. He tried to keep the judgmental look of surprise from his own face when it was returned to the pocket instead of slipped on his finger.

“It was my grandfather’s,” he informed him.

“Oh. I wasn’t- I mean… It’s a very nice ring.”

“Extra-marital affairs aren’t really my style.”

“Good. Mine neither. Not that I’m married. Or thought you were. I’m gay and single,” he blurted out. Briefly he contemplated whether throwing himself into oncoming traffic would have been a less horrific option. Even Tucker was looking at him like he was an idiot. Which he was. A really, really big idiot.

“Good,” Sebastian echoed. Somehow he managed to infuse that single word with more confident innuendo than Blaine had used in his entire life. “I’ll be seeing you around, Blaine Anderson.”  He bent down to scratch under Tucker’s chin before turning on his heel and striding away. 


End file.
